


Broken Marionette

by orphan_account



Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: Dale whump, Gen, M/M, Protective Harry, inspired be other works
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:28:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21612256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Harry creeps toward the door, he’s not quite sure who broke into his house. Or even who was stupid enough to break into the Sheriffs house.“Who are you and how did you get into my house?”“You gave me a key Harry.” And Harry knows. He knows those eyes and that voice. It’s Coop. It’s his Coop.Or,I’m listening to Bastille and scrolling through Harry Truman/Dale Cooper tag and was inspired.
Relationships: Dale Cooper & Twin Peaks Citizens, Dale Cooper/Harry Truman
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Like Acting, But Sadder](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21502858) by [Aaron_The_8th_Demon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaron_The_8th_Demon/pseuds/Aaron_The_8th_Demon). 



> Sigh, I can’t write and like Is AU’s this was inspired by other works. Depending on responses I might continue but right now? Probably not.
> 
> And the other work that inspired me? Soft and Rugged

Something rouses Harry from his sleep. Squinting slightly he tilted his head to the side. In luminescent green light the clock reads 2:25. He’s not quite sure what had woken him but he’s up now. Tossing the blankets off he swings his legs over the side of the bed.

He’s not getting any more sleep so he might as well put a pot of coffee on. That’s when he hears a crash downstairs. He coils his body somebody was in his house.

No

Somebody had  _ broken  _ into his house.

He’s not quite sure who was stupid enough to break into the sheriffs house but right now he doesn’t care who they are. He just knows he needs to get them out. Opening the nightstand draw he pulls his pistol out. Quietly he pads out of his room.

If he plays his cards right he could get the jump on whoever was inside and that jump would prove vital.

He never realized how terrifying his house was at night, not until now that is.

There’s hardly any sound and Harry can hear himself breathing. He doesn’t like it. He really doesn’t like it. A deep sense of wrongness sinks heavily into his gut. The shadows that the moon is casting over his room does nothing to help. He swears every time he turns something had moved. 

The common sense part of his brain is telling him it was just the shadows but the more primitive side was screaming danger. He takes a minute to gather himself. Once he’s calmer and has the ability to think with a clear head he rests his hand on the kitchen door. 

Three

Two

One, and with that Harry quickly slams the door open. He’s ready for a fight. Whoever is in his kitchen wheels back and falls flat. Their hiding their face and Harry can see dark hair. Dark hair like Dale’s he shakes his head. Best not to dwell on that.

“Who are you and how did you get in my house?” He demands the stranger his quiet and he looks up.

“You gave me a key Harry.”

Even without the words. Harry would know the man. His eyes were all that gave him away. Those warm expressive hazel eyes.

It was Coop.

Actually, more accurately, it was his Coop. The special agent who rambled a lot and would go off on tangents. Who laughed at Harry’s dumb jokes. Who had shyly kissed Harry under the mistletoe three years ago. The man who stole his hat and giggled slightly at the way it was to big.

He looks like hell. Pain is shining in his eyes and his dirty, so incredible dirty and there’s blood. Probably a mix of both his and god knows who else. He’s swaying on his feet and Harry jolts forward. Putting his gun down on the countertop as he does. He catches Dale before he collapses. 

Dale’s thin, even in his jacket Harry can feel bones. He’s shaking, he’s shaking so hard. Harry rests his head on top of Dale’s.

“Shhh, Shh it okay. Dale. It’s okay,``he murmurs quietly to the other. The shaking as subdued by now to only a few tremors every few minutes. The lapse in that silence for awhile. 

A part of Harry is scared that if he breaks the silence Dale would vanish and he would wake up. Dale takes a shuddering breath.

“Harry,” Harry hums in response. Dale curls up tighter against Harry’s chest.

“I’m cold and, and. Everything hurts. I’m scared Harry. I’m so scared. I don’t know what to do and I don’t know what happened.”

Harry heart lurches at the weak words. 

“It’s okay. Coop you're okay. Your here,” A muffled sob and pain filled hazel eyes jerk up to meet Harry’s eyes

“But where is here? I, I don’t know what is real anymore.”

It’s those words that shatter Harry’s heart. He has no clue what to say. Not with Dale’s response. Though he does know one thing.

He needs to help Dale.

  
  



	2. Broken Marionette

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warning(s): Description of Broken Marionettes, spiders childhood trauma
> 
> So, yes I’m continuing this. Lord knows I have enough time. That being said. The update schedule like all my stuff will be all over the place. You might not get a chapter some days and you might get two chapter in a single day and lengths will vary.
> 
> That and I work at a grocery store. So, I’ve been working a lot lately and sometimes when I get off of work I don’t want to do anything but lay down and listen to music.
> 
> ALSO  
> I’m taking a few liberties with Harry’s family. I hope that’s okay with everybody.

The thing about broken marionettes is that they're creepy. Incredibly creepy, limbs twisted at awkward angles. Their entire bodies are unable to hold themselves up because the strings are frayed and their limbs too weak to support them. Their eyes are glassy and unseeing. All in all, they look entirely too much like a dead human and Harry had seen plenty of dead bodies in his lifetime. The only inkling that they aren’t human and never were, would be the cracks and holes all along their skin and instead of blood and entrails, it was only blackness. 

Harry had always hated marionettes, an incident in his childhood had left him terrified of them. 

When he was younger he had been at his grandparents for Sunday dinner and his grandmother collected them. They mostly stayed up in the attic because when the grandchildren first came over as babies they had burst into tears and though they were older now the marionettes had never gotten taken down from the attic and they had mostly been forgotten. 

Harry had been sent up to the attic when he was six maybe seven. His grandparents' old dinner table had finally seen its last leg of life (that and his older sister’s family couldn’t fit at the table) so he had been sent upstairs to get the folding tables* they had rarely used. 

While the adults cleaned up the mess the table caused, thankfully it was just plates and no food had yet been placed on the table but they were still broken (his grandmother mourned the loss of her nice plates). Harry had been sent upstairs to retrieve the folding tables. The ladder creaked ominously underfoot. Harry had carefully opened the door to the attic and slipped in. His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness of the attic and he sneezed from the fine layer of dust that had accumulated over the five years they hadn’t used the attic. A spider web got caught in hair and he had worked on pulling it out. Occasionally looking down at his hand to see if he had caught a spider. It was while doing this that he ran into the marionettes. 

Harry had looked up and screamed and realized back as he found himself face to face with the body of a marionette. He had violently pulled back and gotten entangled in more strings. His vision tunneled and all he could see was the marionettes and them… they were moving. Somebody grabbed his shoulder and Harry let out another blood-curdling scream. He later found out it had been his father who found him. He had picked Harry up and rushed out of the attic. Harry had buried his head into his father's shoulder and sobbed. His father had deposited him into the guest room, well, more accurately his uncle's room because he was the only one who really used it when he came up. 

Harry had cocooned himself into the blankets and tears streamed down his face as he shook. He could hear his family arguing in the other room but he couldn’t make out the words. They hadn’t stayed for dinner that day and it would be a while until he went back to his grandparents and even then Harry refused to go into the attic. 

Harry shakes his head from the unwanted memories. The unwilling trip down memory lane. Had been triggered because of Dale. The way the shorter man resembled a marionette was unnerving.

Speaking of Dale, the former FBI agent looked like hell. His skin paler than a corpse and his hair greasy and clothes rumpled. Nothing like the well put together man Harry knew. Swallowing to gather himself Harry addressed the other.

“You should get a shower.” Dale blinks owlishly to him and he slowly nods. He nervously licked his lips. 

“Uh, yeah, yeah that would be nice,” Dale pauses and then looks down.

“I don’t have any clothes but these. Can you please wash them,” Harry doesn’t think when he speaks up again. Honestly, maybe he should have. Thought that through.

“I’ll wash them but you can borrow a pair of mine.” 

“Thank you.” Dale still hasn’t left and Harry can’t help but give him a quizzical look. Dale’s cheeks flush red and he shyly looks down. 

“Where’s your bathroom again?” Harry could have hit himself. Of course, Dale didn’t know where his bathroom was! He rarely came over and it had been a few years. 

“I’ll take you to it.”

Once he gets Dale to the bathroom. He helps the agent into the tub. He opts not to start with the shower. Harry wasn’t sure if Dale’s legs could hold him for as long as he needed in the shower. Lowering Coop into the tub the water immediately turns a murky brown. 

Harry pulls back and he wants to stay but Dale looks uncomfortable, “take all the water you need Coop it’s fine.” Dame nods his head slightly distracted. Harry slips out of the room before he hunts for clothes. Harry needed to make a few calls. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *so apparently folding tables were invented in the 20th century and were in mass circulation in 1950(?) Don’t quote me on that but if not let’s pretend they are when Harry was a child. 
> 
> I own nothing!
> 
> Next chapter Harry makes a call to Lucy and Andy picks up (I love Andy). Harry debates about calling Albert. He finds clothes for Harry and maybe something from Coops POV.
> 
> The phone calls were going to be in this chapter but I decided to hold off. 
> 
> Feedback is much appreciated! 
> 
> Yell at me on Tumblr: asheryapal

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing and if you want to ramble to me check out my Tumblr I’m asheryapal


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